


G.I. Jim, the Soldier from the Past and Future

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, None - Freeform, Other: See Story Notes, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:43:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The spirit of the Sentinel guards over his tribe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	G.I. Jim, the Soldier from the Past and Future

## G.I. Jim, the Soldier from the Past and Future

#### by marianne, the insomniac

Author's website: <http://www.geocities.com/aslovers/>  
The Sentinel and its characters are owned by Pet Fly. I make no profit on this.  
Acknowledgments: Thanks to my Beta Annie Booker for her hard work on my first   
Sentinel Fanfic. You rock.  
http://www.geocities.com/aslovers/illos/send072k.jpg drawing of Jim and Daryl  
This story is a sequel to: none

* * *

G.I. Jim, the Soldier from the Past and Future - marianne:) the insomniac 

Daryl knew he had to remain quiet and very still, or the bad men would hurt him again. He hurt like he never had before, when one of them hurled him to the corner of the tent and he got bumped where his arm connected with a wooden box there. 

His eyes were streaming with hot tears down his puffy cheeks, but no sound came from his trembling lips after he'd been reprimanded by the same man. 

The little boy held his trusty Teddy closer to his small body, as he cried silently. Putting his thumb into his mouth, he fell into a fitful sleep. 

The camp he was in became silent as it got darker, and the occasional murmurs he'd been hearing, died away as well as he drifted into sleep. 

Daryl didn't know how long he'd been asleep when a movement behind the box woke him. The fire at the fireplace from outside made him aware of the blade cutting through the tent and suddenly, big hands opened the cut and startling bright blue eyes stared at him. By holding a finger over his own lips, the man reminded him to be silent and not to speak at all. The man's face was blackened by some kind of color, Daryl thought. 

"Come here, little man." the apparition whispered. "We have to get away from here before daylight. I am here to rescue you. Don't be afraid." 

The little boy slowly came to his feet and right into the arms of the big man. Although the man was tall he was not as tall as his father, but almost, Daryl thought. He felt instant trust in the man who held him tightly to his body while sprinting soundlessly away into the denser part of the woods. Away from the camp where the bad man was. Daryl remembered his father telling him not to trust strangers but he told himself that this stranger could surely be trusted as he had rescued him from the truly bad men who had taken him from his Mommy, when he was just a few feet away from her looking at the beautiful G.I. Joes and Action Man displayed in the shop windows, with his trusty Teddy in his arms. 

Suddenly sounds of firearms and guns dispersing in many directions cut the still night and shouting vibrated throughout the woods. Little Daryl hid his face tighter into the folds of the big man's fatigues. He tried to quell the sounds coming from his mouth, sobbing quietly. He could feel the man moving steadily and that reassured him that he was safe for now. 

"I know it's hard, little man, but you have to really be very quiet now, so we can hide from the bad men and be invisible to them when they pass us. Okay?" the man asked him quietly in a whisper. 

The little boy shook his small head affirmatively and buried his face again in the greenish folds of the uniform, while holding tightly to his Teddy, whispering to him to be quiet too and not to be afraid. 

Running feet could be heard, but no one came near them, as far as Daryl could tell. Were they really invisible to the men who passed by them? Daryl wondered. 

They were on the move again after a while in a steady sprint through the dense woods. The little boy could hardly see an inch in front of his eyes, only the occasional sweeping away of a branch or trunk, but not one ever touched him. 

Day was dawning and some light began to appear through the trees. Looking up at last, the little boy studied the chiseled features of the man, with the bright blue eyes, so different from his father's. 

Finally they came to a stop by a clear stream. The big man let him down and knelt by the clear water to fill his field bottle. He turned and looked at the little boy he had rescued from the Supremacist Militia group he'd come across on his weekend trip for some R & R before his next mission. He smiled when he saw the big dark eyes studying him from head to feet. 

"Come here, little man. Drink some water and rest a bit. We're far away from those guys for now." With those words, he moved closer to the boy and held his field bottle to those lips which still trembled but drank eagerly of the refreshing water. Then the man drank some as well. 

The eyes were still focused on him. "Do you have night vision? You're just like G.I. Joe," the little boy whispered. 

"I just have good eyes, little man. And I am Jim. What's your name?" 

"Nice to meet you, G.I. Jim. I'm Daryl. Will you bring me back to Daddy and Mommy?" 

"As soon as possible, little man. We have to get out of the woods first." As Jim patted the child's right shoulder the little boy gave a small hiss of pain, alerting him that not all was right with the little tyke. "Did you hurt yourself?" Jim asked, as he proceeded to lift the small T-shirt to take a look at the wound below. 

"The bad man pushed me and the box hurt me," Daryl answered while the big man passed his hand, without actually touching him, over the large bruise which was forming on his shoulder and arm. 

"Thank God, it's not broken, little man. You are very courageous for staying so still." The man took care of it by pressing a wet cloth over the bruise and rummaging through his backpack found the item he was searching for and smoothed the healing cream over the bruises and then put the T-shirt back on. 

"All right now. Let's eat something before we go on," Jim said and he rummaged through his backpack again and took out a sandwich and cut it with his large hunting knife into two parts and, giving the bigger part to the little boy. 

He had enough to eat the night before and when he saw those men, mishandling the little boy, it had altered his original plan to alert the authorities first. He surely would not have left that small boy to the mercy of those guys and within an hour of seeing them he'd cut the tent and taken the boy away. 

"How old are you?" he asked while eating his share of the small breakfast. 

The small boy held up first, three fingers of his left hand, then added a wiggly fourth and said, "Four. Well, I am four in a week. It is my birthday and Daddy said I will get a big present and a birthday party." 

Jim hoped he had the little tyke back home when that big day came, knowing only too well that they were far from civilization. First they had to clear the woods and then the mountains before they could get near a Ranger station. 

Some vacation this turned out to be, he thought as he returned everything they had used, to his backpack. There would be no sign where they had passed for anyone to follow, he ensured. 

"Come, little man. We have to go." And with that he took the boy right back into his arms, beginning to sprint again in his steady steps, leaving no boot tracks behind. 

It was almost high noon when they stopped again for more provisions, albeit they'd both had some occasional swigs of the water. He was also tiring holding the boy in his arms all the time, and knew he had to think of something else. 

Coming to another stream he refreshed himself and made sure the ripe little tyke took his refreshing as best he could as well and then bundled him up in one of his large fatigue green T-shirts. The one the small boy had on was too ripped to be of any help and the air was getting cooler, reminding him that it was almost winter, and that would come even soon in these mountains. 

Too cool for this little tyke, that was for sure. He rummaged through his large backpack again and took out one pair of his spare jeans - a really thick pair and began to cut the biggest part of the legs away. He managed to cut holes where the side pockets were and wrestled the little guy into it. It was a hoot to see the final product on the little tyke. The boy looked down at himself with his big dark eyes and giggled with his own G.I. Jim. 

Okay, it was not fashionable but it was certainly warm enough for the little boy. His arms came out of the side holes and the legs were still too long, which was as well, so the feet would stay warm and covered by both the pants legs and his sneakers. 

Jim put his large T-shirt on the boy again and added a woollen cap, to keep the head warm as well. He then proceeded to take his second cord and fashioned it in such a way that he could secure the little tyke to his back with the Teddy in between. This way they had body heat as well to warm them. Feeling the small legs secure around his waist, Jim got his warm winter jacket back on over the little boy as well, leaving the tyke's head out as best as he could and finally secured the backpack over his back as well. 

He looked back and said with a smirk in his voice. "Hey, Little Man, give me a warning before you leak, I really don't want to get all wet." 

Indignant, the small voice piped up. "I don't leak. I'm a big boy. Daddy said so." 

"Sure you are, Little Man. Just thought I'd remind you," grinned Jim. He began to walk in the direction of the mountainous border they would have to climb to find their way back to civilization. 

With the kid secured as he was, he was able to get good handholds and thereby make the climb with few problems. The tyke weighed a lot less than a normal service backpack. They rested sometimes until they reached the highest point and then the task of going down the other side began. 

Finally Jim decided to stop as it was getting cold and dark. Looking around, he saw a small cave set into the side of the mountain. Making sure there was nothing inside, he took his backpack off and untangled the little tyke from his back as well. Putting a dark tarp over the small entrance, he started a small fire to warm them up with the branches he had gathered before and some dried leaves from the bushes surrounding the cave. 

Asking the little tyke where he lived was fruitless. After several tries, the most Jim was able to glean from the child was that Daddy and Mommy lived at 4 Russel Street. That was little help, considering they were stranded in the middle of a mountain range. It could be any city, and for that matter any state, for all Jim knew. 

The authorities would be sure to find the tyke's home, wherever it was, he pondered, even while his mind screamed Jim's own need to take the child home himself and know for himself that the boy was safe. 

After a dinner consisting of another sandwich and some hot soup heated over the fire, he tucked the little boy in, and after tending the fire, secured the little boy in his arms and drifted off to sleep as well. 

In the morning all was white outside and their progress was slower now, but nevertheless steady. It became routine for them to rest and walk alternately for the next two days, and finally on the third day, they reached the Forest Ranger's cabin, the goal he'd been aiming for. 

After a while, they were warm in the heated cabin and he made a call to his headquarters and a helicopter was sent for them. 

He had not a lot of time before he had to go on his new mission and had to say good bye to the little tyke he had come to care for a lot. 

"Hey, hey. Who will cry now, little man? See, those men over there are G.I. Joes as well and will take care of you now and bring you to your Daddy and Mommy in no time. I have to go now and I can't take you to your Daddy and Mommy myself, though I would like to. Okay, little man? You were such a courageous little man until now, be courageous a little longer for me." 

Finally he stood up and took the little boy with him and handed him over to the arms of the young Ranger who was waiting in the corner near the door. 

"Take good care of this little man, Soldier Tucker, until he is safe in the arms of his parents." 

After taking the little boy into his arms the soldier took precise continence and said, "Yes, sir. Lieutenant, sir," and left the room seeing that the lieutenant was giving salute to the little boy who gave it right back with tears in the eyes and minding his Teddy to give as well. 

The Lieutenant sighed for a moment then took a step forward. He was ready for his next mission. 

* * *

Detective Simon Banks was overjoyed when he had his boy finally back in his arms. It had been hard on him and Joan. His wife blamed him for everything that had happened. First and foremost for not being near when his son had been kidnapped by the militiamen. 

He tried to get the name of the soldier who had rescued his son but came up against a brick wall with no answers to his questions, meaning it was a special Covert Ops man or such. Finally he gave up and just thanked God to have sent that soldier to rescue his boy. 

Time passed and Banks was now a Captain in Major Crime, heading a great team of detectives, augmented by a special consultant cum detective named Sandburg. Blair Sandburg had been Ellison's partner since what had come to be known as the 'Dissertation Fiasco'. Banks was thinking about times that had gone before. He could still see his son's body dangling from the high window of the PD, held there by Kincaid's goons. He remembered Jim and Blair coming to rescue them when their vacation in Peru had been cut short by drug runners and then Kincaid had been there again, holding Simon and Daryl and Sandburg hostage at sports arena. 

Kincaid was free again, liberated by some comrades of the Militia, and had taken his boy as revenge to a place unknown. 

"I got it!" he heard the shout of Blair Sandburg and whirled around. Sandburg had received his doctorate finally, but nevertheless had preferred to stay with the unit and go through the Academy as well in the last two years. 

Banks sure was glad to have him in his unit. He stepped close to Blair's left side as Jim was already leaning over the other shoulder to peer into the screen. 

As they had from the beginning, they still sat side by side at one desk with two computers on it and a second desk with the rest of their things, one side more disorganized than the other. Things never seemed to change. 

The other detectives in the unit were coming to stand around as well. After one look, Jim stood up resolutely with a feral gleam in his eyes. 

"I know those mountains!" he pronounced. "If we get moving we should be able to be on a plane by 9 PM. 

"So, let's pack and get ready!" commanded Simon, and turned slightly, finding himself face to face with Joel Taggert. He opened his mouth but was interrupted by Taggert himself before he could say anything. 

"Oh, no! You are not going to make me hold the fort while you are all going after Daryl and that blasted Kincaid. No, sir. I will be part of the Rescue Unit." 

What could Simon say to that? He turned to look at Brown, but after a brief look at the determined look on the detective's face turned and looked at Detective Rosenberg. Rosenberg was an old dog in the PD and had been a member of Major Crime for some time now. 

"You will take care of Major Crimes, while some of us go after them. Whoever comes with us needs to be aware it'll be a hard slog, so anyone who wants to come, best be sure they're up to it." 

Turning around he saw all hands go up even Rosenberg's. "I told you, Detective Rosenberg that you have to stay, and not everyone can come. Ellison, make the selection," He commanded lastly and with a final thankful look around made his way to his office to call the commissioner. 

Ellison was no nonsense and selected beside himself and Blair and Joel Taggert, also Brown, Rafe, Conner, Richards, Truecut and Solensense to accompany them as well as two officers he had taken note of, as being particularly reliable. 

His senses were an open secret at the PD, one that no-one whispered about. After all they were not Detectives for nothing. 

Ellison stood ramrod straight to the right of the Captain while he told them about the place they were going to. 

"We are in the middle of winter so it will be bitter cold. Take appropriate clothing, preferably black for camouflage. Space blankets should do fine and the Kevlar vests as well. Ammunition and provisions like Proviant will be handed out shortly." 

"Okay, men. You heard him. We will be ready to meet the rest by 9 pm at Jim and Blair's loft." Simon took in a calming breath and gazed at his team. "And thank you all." 

The airplane took off just after ten PM, taking them as close to their destination as possible. From there they boarded a large Ranger helicopter that dropped them off at a cabin high in the mountains, as close to the Militia's camp as they could get without being detected. 

It was still stark night, but they readied themselves to follow Jim. The transformation of the Ex-Ranger, turned Detective, back to Ranger was awe-inspiring. He prepared himself silently As if in a ritual not even aware of the furtive glances around him from the other team members. 

With his backpack ready, Ellison turned to his partner to help him with his own preparation. He was tempted to tousle the curly mop his partner now sported, a little longer now after the short cut he had during the Academy. He missed the long hair. 

They'd been moving for five hours now, using steady steps in their snow shoes and remaining in a single line. 

Exhaustion was clearly written in all their faces but Ellison's. 

Finally, Sandburg begged for some time from his Sentinel as only a Guide could, making his Sentinel stop abruptly for some rest. 

Simon was standing a bit to the right of them all, his gaze going to the direction his son should be. Joel Taggert stood up from his resting place to stand beside his fellow Captain, resting an arm on his shoulder for comfort. 

"I know it's not easy, Simon, but I have faith we will find him well. Sometimes I feel myself with a craving to shoot Kincaid myself, for all the times he seems to come back into our lives and harm one of our own. I..." He was interrupted when he heard Blair's voice calling to Jim by his side. He turned toward them at the same time as Simon. 

The Sentinel's head was tilted to one side in his typical listening mode and Sandburg's hand rested on his back, the young Guide murmuring softly something none of the others could make out, despite the silence all around them. 

Suddenly the Sentinel stood to his full height and inclined his head a bit, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he picked up his rifle. He turned slightly to Simon and said under his breath, "We have to move now. Daryl is screaming." 

While the Sentinel took his backpack and helped Blair with his, the others moved to do the same. 

As soon as they were all ready, he tilted his head again in the familiar listening pose, his eyes blazing. 

"Daryl is fine, now. Hurt, but one of Kincaid's men got the order to take him to his tent. They are regrouping to carry out some manoeuvres. The camp will be less populated until four pm. We have an hour to go to reach the camp if we go at a steady pace. No more talking from now on. Hand signals should be enough." With that he turned to Simon to see if there were any more orders, but Simon only nodded his head in agreement, still processing the words 'screaming and hurt'. 

They reached the camp in under an hour. All was silent around them. Jim could make out several sentries scattered around the compound, which was still under construction. Some barracks had been erected but it was mostly still made of tents scattered around. Turning to the team he pinpointed some of the sentries, while he and Sandburg took care of the rest as silently as possible. The sentries never knew what hit them, just found themselves knocked out and then bound so tightly that not even a little finger was able to move. 

Once they were all together again, Jim motioned for the rest to stay put while he and Sandburg went to find Daryl. It would cause fewer disturbances if just the two of them went. And Jim would not chance any risky movement on Simon's part when they encountered the young man. He opened his backpack and revealed a large crossbow which he put together in no time. 

The Sentinel was able to home in on Daryl's heartbeat like a beacon, which surprised him in a way. The only guard was one up in front of the tent in a lazy sprawl on his seat. Jim worked his large hunting knife through the back of the tent and opened the parts further with his hands, to find himself gazing right into the big eyes of his target. The boy's eyes lit up although there was pain in there as well. In truth, he'd been rather transfixed when he saw those hands opening the sides of the tent and those startling blue eyes gazing at him, reminding him of a long ago time. 

Just before Daryl heard movement behind him Jim motioned him to get down and watched as the point of an arrow made its way right to the guard, but before he could see where it had been aimed, the same hands turned his face to look back into the light blue eyes, and finally push him through the hole into the big man's arms. Daryl had grown up to be now almost as tall as his father, but felt as safe in those arms as if he were a little boy, and sobbed silently while he was embraced. 

His bound hands and legs were released by a second pair of hands. A quick search for any injuries revealed to the Sentinel that the boy had a broken leg which had been barely tended to and heat was coming from various parts of Daryl's body telling him of bruises and such. Without preamble, he took a space-blanket out of Blair's backpack and proceeded to bind the youth to his back as securely as possible. They made their way back to the others without being sighted by anyone. 

The reunion of father and son was brief as the Sentinel hurried them on to retreat, not yet ready to pass his charge over to the boy's father. 

After a few miles he finally came to a halt and released his charge to the ground with the men's help then bent to check on the boy again. Simon was holding Daryl's upper body on his lap tracing trembling hands around some of the bruises on the youth's face. 

"He is mostly bruised and has a broken leg. No internal injuries that I can detect. The break is clean, but we have to get him to a clinic as soon as possible. He needs to be warmed up, too. He's hypothermic as hell." 

Jim counted all the boy's injuries as he looked him over. Finally he took one of the kid's hands and began to rub some warmth into it. His other hand and limbs were taken by a very silent Sandburg and Joel. Letting go of the hands, Jim rummaged through his backpack and got out an insulated thermal shirt and trousers, and pulled another shirt from Blair's pack as well. Next he found the first aid kit, so he could set and bandage the boy's leg properly. With Joel's and Blair's help, he managed to get the clothes on the now almost unconscious boy. 

Suddenly the Sentinel lifted his head again in the characteristic listening pose. 

"Damn. Kincaid got back to the camp before time and discovered Daryl's escape. Simon, take him now." 

The men shouldered their packs again and Joel took Simon's as well as his own while the Sentinel helped his Captain to secure the boy on his back as he had done before. At least for a while. 

They ran as fast as they could until Simon was puffing his lungs out at the pace, his charge on his back slowing him down. At first he would not release Daryl but coaxing from Sandburg finally made him see it was best for now. 

"Come on, man. You can hardly go on like that. Let Joel take him for a while. We have to reverse to get back to the Ranger's cabin, or we won't make it safely back." 

The change was made shortly and after some time it seemed Joel was out of breath now too and Jim took charge of Daryl again. He was in the best condition of them all, making Simon promise to himself silently that he would go the gym more often once this was all over. 

They were two hours from the cabin, when Jim turned around and motioned all to take cover and then hell broke lose. 

A raging Kincaid could be seen discharging his gun at will in their direction with his men at his side. 

Brown got hit by a random bullet in his shoulder but he took cover as best as he could, reassuring Rafe that he was fine and took aim again at the Militia men bringing one down. Detective Richards got hit in the leg and went down when a second strafed his temple. Connor got him to shelter while she discharged her own weapon, her aim finding every target precisely. 

The fight between the two groups continued it seemed, for hours. Each target he aimed for was a hit from the Sentinel and his Guide was not far behind. 

"Jim!" the Guide shouted out before pushing Jim to the ground when he saw a sniper on the left. The bullet hit Sandburg instead. The distressed Sentinel's last bullet found its target catching the sniper right between the eyes. Next he turned in Simon's direction and saw Kincaid aiming at the captain's head. Jim grabbed his cross bow and fast as the wind aimed and shot an arrow. Kincaid lunged for his neck where the arrow had gone through, blood spilling over his hands, with an astonished look of disbelief in his face. A bullet fired immediately after caught him right between the eyes, and he crumpled to his knees and dived nose down into the cold snow. 

"About time!" Jim could hear the murmur of Joel's distinctive voice as he aimed his gun back at the rest of the Militia men. Without their leader, they fell back and scattered, still trying to fight off the small group of armed detectives. However, they, too, soon gave up the fight, realizing it was hopeless. Jim could make out the sounds of heavy helicopters approaching their battle field. But they were still too far away for anyone else to hear and Jim continued to fire, now with Blair's weapon and Daryl still strapped to his back. 

A bullet hit him in his right shoulder when he was out of ammunition but not before he made sure Daryl was safe. He could feel the pain hit him with stark force just as the others were finally able to hear the approaching helicopters. 

Army troops came with them and soon the rest of the Militia gave up to the last man and the Sentinel could finally hold his injured Guide to his arms, only letting go when Simon asked him urgently to, finally allowing himself to be relieved of the other charge on his back. Looking up, Jim saw the face of someone he vaguely recognised, an Army Lieutenant who gave his continence to him. Then Jim slumped to the ground, unconscious. 

* * *

Daryl could feel a hand caressing his face fleetingly and was sure it was his father's and leaned into it. Softly spoken words brought back memories of his childhood when those same hands had woken him and made him feel safe. Opening his eyes finally, he was reminded of another memory, one that startled him with its intensity. A memory of when he was just a little boy and he'd been rescued by someone else's safe hands. He could still remember the man's startling blue eyes. 

"Dad, where's G.I. Jim?" 

Simon was baffled for a moment at hearing that name from his son's mouth. It had been a long time since Daryl had mentioned it. He still had all his G.I. Joe and Action Man dolls hidden in a corner of his room, as though they were special treasures. They were nearly all called G.I. Jim. 

"Daryl, as I explained to you before, I tried to find G.I. Jim, but it was impossible back then and still is, but I am happy that our Jim Ellison and Sandburg, with some others from Major Crimes helped me find you and bring you back. I could have lost you forever, son, if it wasn't for them all." 

Daryl was still very weak and could only muster up a whisper so he asked his dad to come closer, to make him understand the wonder of it all. 

"But, Dad. Jim is G.I. Jim, I remember clearly now. He came to the rescue the same way as before and I just knew it when I saw his blue eyes gazing down at me. Sure, he was much younger and had more hair, but even then he had that short haircut and I could never forget those blue eyes of the man who rescued me." 

Simon stared at his son, wondering if what Daryl said could really be true, when a soft knock on the door startled him. 

"Sorry to interrupt, sir. I don't know if you remember me, but I was the soldier back then, who brought your little son to you. I could hardly believe it when I saw Captain Ellison and you together, sir. And now to find out, that you are his superior and that little man, as Captain Ellison called him, is the same yet again. I'm sorry I couldn't give any information before of the man's identity and still shouldn't, as I was ordered to. But as Daryl said, it was him, right before he had to go on a top-secret mission. I just wanted to tell you this, and to let you know that when he was back at base he asked me if I delivered the boy back safe and sound to his parents in time for the big birthday party." 

The Lieutenant was a bit embarrassed but stood his ground and winked at the exhausted youth. 

Daryl smiled back sleepily but managed to whisper, "Hey, man, I remember you; you carried me all around until I was in my father's arms." 

"Would be a lot more difficult for me now, dontcha think? I hardly reach up to your shoulder, now." 

He gave a little salute to his cap then just before he turned to leave, Simon stood up and took the man's hand. 

"Thanks for telling me, Lieutenant. And thanks for all you did for my son back then." 

"No thanks needed, sir. It was enough to see the little man back where he belonged and still belongs. Take care." 

"You're welcome in Cascade, Lieutenant, anytime you feel like it." 

"Thank you, sir." 

With that the lieutenant left. Simon was right back at his son's side, who was sleepy but wanted to know about Jim, Blair and the others. He still could remember the firefight and then nothing as he was unconscious before the end. 

"Well, son, Jim is still unconscious and nothing seems to make him wake up since Sandburg is still in surgery. Blair flew right in the way of the bullet which was meant for you and Jim. It was touch and go. Jim was hit afterwards in his right shoulder but never mentioned that he had been hit before in his thigh and left side as well. No wonder with all those bullets, ricocheting around. Brown is fine and already waiting with the others in the waiting room, even though he's all bandaged up. Even Officer Richards is over the hump. Joel is sitting by Jim while I am here with you." Softer, he murmured more to himself, "I only hope the kid's okay and wakes up soon, so he can bring Jim back." 

"Why aren't I in the same room as Jim? He's gonna need our support and help with any problems he might have with his senses when he wakes up. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Dad, I was not born yesterday and I've managed to get copies of some of Blair's articles throughout the years. I know about Jim as well as you do. Well, not all, but enough to know that he needs us, his tribe, for support while his guide is out for some time." 

To say the least, Simon was very stunned. 

"He got you right there, Captain, man. To think about it, that would be right on the nail. A protector has to be sometimes the protected. And Sandburg would like to know we took care of his Sentinel, who is also our Sentinel, while he was out," said Brown, leaning on the door frame for some support for his shoulder. 

"I'd say the same," piped up a voice from behind him. It was Rafe, who'd come looking for his partner. 

"By the way, Sandburg just came out of surgery. The doc said he should be fine by tonight and if all goes well we can take everyone back to Cascade in three days. If Jim wakes up by then." 

Connor joined them. "Yes, as I see it as soon as Sandy wakes up, Jimbo will be around soon as well. So let's get the captain's son into Ellison's room, alright, so we can give the good news to Joel as well, mates." 

* * *

"Hey, Jim. Jim. Don't do this to me, man. I think it is really time for you to wake up now. I don't have the stamina at the moment to talk for hours for you to wake up. I know the void is nice sometimes, but with all this audience around us, this is so not hot and I want to go back to Cascade and the loft. I really think it's time. As I see it, my herbs and plants are really over the bender again. And my fish have probably already starved to death. I can just see it." 

"...Rule, Chief. No pets in.. Loft. When did ... get a fish? You're already my little Guppy, no need for more fish. Void... not nice, but the fish mus... go. Not my Guppy, but the other one." 

H. snickered, and soon the rest followed, set off by the enlightening words. 

"What are you laughing at?" asked a seemingly more awake Ellison. He appeared surprised to see such a crowd in his hospital room. "Rules, are rules, or there would be chaos." 

"But, Jim, man, you would deny Hairboy a fish?" 

"A fish, no, but I have to take into consideration, everything that goes with that. A filter burbling all day and night or we'd be replacing dead fish every day." 

"You're right, Jim. No fish. I don't understand why I thought of fish, thought they would be less noisy, but thinking now, it would be hell. Let's make it a rule, man. No fish. At least not the living ones." 

Sorry to break up the entertainment, folks, but I'd really like to be able to see my patient now. Especially as, he's now seen fit to wake up at last. I'd like to check and make sure everything's okay with him. Then, my staff would be very happy to see the lot of you head back to your own city. They haven't stopped complaining about all of you for the past four days..." 

"Breathe, doc." said almost all in the room with a snicker. 

"Chief, I always thought you talked like a band-worm, but that is she's worse." 

"Oh, yeah, detective, just go on making fun of the man who holds the pass to freedom for you and your other friends". 

"Daryl! Good to see you well again. You had all of us worried for a while there," said Jim, with his still rather raspy voice. Blair gave him some ice chips, that Simon handed to him. 

"Thanks, Jim, man. I'm glad to see you're better, too, G.I. Jim." 

Jim frowned at that. 

"Now all out, but Sandburg." 

The doctor finally managed to get the rest of them out of the room. She'd had about as much as she could take of that lot, but she understood that the shorter detective, if that's what he was, was essential to the wellbeing of the bigger man in her care, for now at least. If all their tests came back clear, Cascade General could take over their care. 

She sighed happily after finishing her examination. 

"All clear for the papers to be signed first thing in the morning." At that she left, leaving the door open to let the entourage enter again, as it was really less hassle then trying to keep them out. "Or right now. Less to worry about in the morning." And she went to make sure of that, halting beside a man on her way to the administration desk. Wonder of wonders, but who should that distinctive man in the Armani suit be asking about but her lovely charges. 

"They are in room 317. Just make your way in there. One more or less will make no difference, nurse." She sighed and went back to write the release papers. What a day. 

The nurse huffed but got a big smile on her face when she saw the release papers, and after they were finished she took them right to whom they were meant to go to. 

* * *

"That was you, Daryl." 

"You got it, G.I. Jim." The man in the Armani suit overheard the words as he approached the crowded room. He recognized most of the voices. He smiled. 

"Jim, I can't believe it was you that time who rescued my boy all those years ago. But I should have guessed. I can't thank you enough." 

Jim just smiled embarrassedly as the large youth sat up in his bed, the huge plaster on his leg bobbing up and down in his excitement. He anchored himself of knowing his Guide was okay, at his side, even if Blair was still pale with dark circles around his eyes. Added to that was the sling around his neck, supporting his injured shoulder. 

The Sentinel was about to say something when a nurse they all recognized rushed in. 

"Here, you just have to sign these papers, then you can be released," the nurse said. She held out a pen as well and waited as the forms made their way around all the men in the room who were waiting anxiously to be released. 

Done. She turned with a happy smile and left without another word, the papers secure in her hands. 

"Let's make a call to the airport to make sure when the next flight leaves for Cascade," said Simon when he was surprised by a voice. 

"No need, Simon. I came with the company Jet to see for myself how Jim and Blair were after receiving word. Bro, I must say, I am more than happy to see you well. When I was called they said it was bad. I almost couldn't get Dad to stay behind. But with his cold it would have been worse if he'd come with me." 

* * *

Jim felt happy. He was back home with his Guide, who was still on a crutch for some days more, although Blair could at least get around without being in as much pain now. Thanks to the lessons his Guide had taught him, he was able to know this and now he leaned back in his chair contentedly to watch his friends mingling in the loft. The apartment was bigger now, since he and Blair had bought the adjacent loft and had a wall removed to give them more space and a few extra rooms. 

He smiled again as he saw his father in earnest conversation with H, about a topic he had no wish to eavesdrop, and at Steven dancing attendance on Conner, his eyes bright. He could certainly see the answering sparkle in Megan's as well. 

Damn, he thought he would have that Aussie as a family member in no time now. 

Beside him sat his relaxed for once said Guide who normally would be bouncing around as well, entertaining with more outrageous stories and tribal antics, but who seemed content at the moment to just sit there surrounded by their friends, tribe-watching, he guessed. On his other side was Daryl, whispering the most outrageous stories of his own, to the Sentinel who he knew was listening and understanding all, which he found way cool, of course, which made it more fun to whisper so no one could hear and finally see Jim crack a smile and laugh outright to make everyone stop what they were doing. 

"Simon, I think you will have a handful with that boy of yours. That I can vouch for." 

"You think that's news. I've known that since the day he was born." Simon smiled and tousled said boy's head just for the fun of it. He still wasn't happy to know that Daryl intended to join the Police Academy in two years time, but if it was what Daryl really wanted, Simon wouldn't stand in his way. At least Sandburg had talked him into signing up for a Criminal Psychology course. Who knew? Maybe Daryl would even make it a doctorate. 

With a smile Jim just leaned back for a moment to rest his eyes, just for a bit he told himself, and he dreamed from a long time past, about a curly headed little three year old boy with the biggest blue eyes he had ever seen. 

The End? 

* * *

End G.I. Jim, the Soldier from the Past and Future by marianne, the insomniac: marianne@goldtec.com.br  
Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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